Night of the Living Dead
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Vampire!AU. After the daughter of Dudley Dursley is murdered in a horrific manner, Ginny feels like she is the only one who can set out into Hogsmeade and confront the ruthless killer. But what lays in store for her isn't the glorious murder that she had hoped for. Written for Quidditch Leagues Final


**Word Count:** 2,706  
 **Warnings:** Vampire!AU, Voldemort never died!AU  
 **Written For:**

 **\- Muggle Appreciation Club, Movies:** Dracula - Bram Stoker. Prompts: (Restriction) No saying vampire or blood - Bonus, (Plot Point) Main character is a vampire, (Word Set) Dying, Pale, Black, Venom, (Color) Crimson, (location) The Three Broomsticks

 **\- The Quidditch Leagues Finals Round 1.** Prompts: (word) Curious, (quote) 'Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that'. - Martin Luther King Jr, (atmosphere) /light-thunderstorm

 **\- Teacher Triwizard Tournament**

 **\- The 'Can You Do It?' AU Extravaganza:** Vampire!AU

 **\- Hogwarts Horror Fest! Prompts:** (word) beg, (word) merciless, (action/plot point) Main character commits crimes against an innocent

 **\- Gringotts Prompt Bank:** Criminal Minds Prompts - (dialogue) "I'd like to make a request." / "With that sultry voice? You name it.", Once Upon a Time Prompts - (dialogue) "I don't run from monsters. They run from me." - Regina

* * *

 _If the sun comes up, will it tear the skin right off our bones?_

Ginevra Weasley nursed her glass of Daisyroot, staring out of the window into the dark streets of Hogsmeade beyond. There was a storm coming, and a dreadful one at that. Even in the darkness, Ginny could make out the threat of heavy, purple clouds, and see the blur of rain in the distance. It was noisy inside the Three Broomsticks, so she didn't know if it was thundering outside—but she'd know before long.

The sun had gone down hours ago, and it was finally time for her to face him. The monster who had been plaguing the villages around this side of Scotland for the last few months. For a while, the wizarding community had ignored the creature, hoping it would eventually grow tired. But a student had been caught by the demon—a silly, Muggleborn girl who had been sneaking out through one of the secret tunnels of Hogwarts - and she had been turned and then staked by her Maker.

That Muggleborn girl had been the daughter of her boyfriend's cousin, Dudley Dursley. The whole family had been plunged into dismay at the news, as Dudley and his wife had put their trust in Harry and the Weasley's to look after their magical daughter while she was studying at Hogwarts. They had failed him.

Harry had sworn to go out and murder the creature himself, but Ginny knew that he couldn't do it. He was too emotional, too tender from the news—he wouldn't be able to be swift, stealthy and slippery. He wouldn't be able to just kill the creature. He'd need an explanation. He'd get himself killed. Harry wasn't the 'chosen one' anymore—those days were behind him.

So Ginny had spiked her boyfriend's coffee with a Draught of the Living Death, and he had fallen into a deep sleep before six thirty. This gave Ginny plenty of time to get ready and head out to Hogsmeade before the winter sun would begin to set.

She had dressed entirely in black, hoping to somehow camouflage herself into the night and give herself more of an advantage on the deadly creature. Her leggings were tight and her black, roll-neck sweatshirt was too, and she had pulled her auburn hair into a ponytail. Her wand was sticking out of the back of her pants, and she a strap around her thigh carried a thick piece of wood with one end sharpened to a deadly point. Ginny didn't really want to have to _kill_ any creature—but there was nothing else she could do with this one. It was a creature as dark as the darkest night, and no matter of light or love could drive out that darkness.

After she had thrown back her glass of Daisyroot, she stood up in her seat. Many of the customers of the Three Broomsticks knew what she was doing here—if they hadn't figured it out, her hunting attire certainly gave it away. Madam Rosmerta, the middle-aged woman who owned the pub, leaned over the bar and put down the glass that she had been wiping with a rag. "Is it time, love?" she asked, and everyone in the bar silenced their chattering.

Ginny nodded gravely. "I'm going to face it. Someone needs to kill that thing."

"Pretty young lassie like you," grunted an elderly man in the corner of the bar, who was sipping from a small silver flask. He looked quite disgruntled, but his brown eyes were kind and worried. "You mark my words, miss—if you see that monster, run like hell."

"I don't run from monsters," she replied, forcing a smirk onto her nervous features. "They run from me."

There was a long silence following her statement, but the sound of applause soon began to fill the Three Broomsticks. Ginny headed over to the door, shot one last grin at the patrons of Hogsmeade, and headed out into the dark night.

The thunderstorm had thoroughly arrived in Hogsmeade. Ginny felt the rumble of the heavens before she heard it; it echoed and growled overhead. The sky spat needle-sharp raindrops, drenching her through within minutes of standing outside, and the thick, steely clouds flashed with lightning, and Ginny saw forks of electric in the distance, illuminating the rain-drenched castle of Hogwarts. The mountains beyond the castle glowed in the flashing light too. That was where the creature's lair was—she knew it.

In less than a few seconds, Ginny Weasley had turned on the spot and vanished.

She reappeared moments later, feeling instantly even colder than she had done before. She was halfway up the mountains that she had just moments ago been looking up at, and she could see the warm, dimly lit houses of Hogsmeade below her. Hogwarts was below her now, and she could make out the shimmering, glossy surface of the Black Lake, and hear the deafening sound of the rain thundering down on the roofs of the greenhouses. But she wasn't here to look down at Hogwarts, so Ginny turned away from the school, facing the expanse of mountain terrain ahead of her. Through the thick sheet of rain, Ginny noticed the wide, dark opening of a cave.

It only took her about ten minutes to reach the mouth of the cave. She could sense there was no magic in this dismal place—just death and disrepair. Curious crimson splashes stained the sharp rocks around the cave's entrance, and a pile of suspiciously human-looking bones were littered around. Ginny felt her stomach turn. This creature was a merciless killer.

Something deep down tugged at her heart—a desperation, a pleading with her subconscious to apparate out of this place and flee back home, where she could be warm and safe with Harry. But Ginny ground her teeth together and clenched her fists. She wasn't a coward, and this creature had murdered an innocent girl—probably hundreds of innocents. No one else dared take it on. She had to do this.

So she forced her legs to move, and walked headlong into the cave, keeping her chest thrust out and her head up straight. Instinct told her to light her wand, as the cave was pitch black, but she knew better than that. She needed to let her eyes adjust to the darkness and stick to the shadows. The darkness was the monster's strong point. She couldn't draw attention to herself by casting a _Lumos_ spell.

Her lip wobbled as she edged further and further into the cave. The tunnel wound on and on, deeper into the mountain until she couldn't even see a hand in front of her face. She was forced to keep her palms on the rocky wall beside her in order to navigate her way through the nightmarish cave. After what seemed like hours, she finally saw a pinprick of light in the distance, and heard what sounded like water trickling.

The light source grew larger and more orange as she got closer, and when she noticed it's flickering consistency, she realised it was a fire. She could smell burning—but not just burning wood. Her stomach churned horribly, as she realised that the scent filling her nostrils was possibly burning flesh. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the new attacking light source, and she reached a rocky wall where she could peer through at the fire.

The gap in the wall looked over a huge, descending pit into the mountain, with rickety staircase winding all the way down into the cylindrical abscess. The fire burned from the bottom of the pit, and Ginny noticed the pile of dismembered bodies burning in the heart of the fire. The first level of the pit, high above the fire, was clearly the area where the creature lived and slept. A concrete coffin with it's lid pulled over it was in one far corner. A cauldron and a cabinet with a vast selection of different bottles on it's shelves stood in one area. Worst of all, Ginny could see large, square cages, suspended by ropes from the ceiling and hanging over the dangerous pit. There were about three of these prisons, and each one contained a pale, dying human. They each had sickly gashes torn out of the flesh of their arms and necks, left untreated and growing infected. Ginny had a sneaking suspicion that they were Muggles.

No matter how hard she looked, Ginny couldn't see the demon creature anywhere. It was nearly nine, so she was sure that it wouldn't still be sleeping in it's coffin—but who was she to judge when the nightwalker felt like waking up? Eventually, she knew she was going to have to head down there and see for herself.

So, taking a deep breath, Ginny headed down the stairs beside the wall that she was looking through. It was a steep, concrete staircase which headed directly to the first level of the pit. As she descended, her confidence grew slightly. Her footsteps were echoing around the pit, and she knew that the monster—with it's heightened senses—would be able to hear her from a mile off, should it be here or asleep.

The Muggles in the cages spotted Ginny as she entered the pit, and they began to clutch at the bars and stare out at her. A woman, no older than about thirty, stuck her arm through and wailed. She was naked, Ginny noticed. "Please," she begged, and Ginny cringed as she got a better look at the gaping wound in her arm. It looked as though a shark had bitten through it. "Please help us!"

Ginny raised a finger to her lips, and the Muggle woman nodded gravely. She turned her attention back to the coffin, and began to walk slowly towards it.

Her heart almost stopped as she reached the large, concrete container. This was it. The creature was just within distance of her. All she had to do was push the lid off of the coffin, and strike it through the heart. She licked her dry lips slowly, and reached out to grasp the cold stone.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," a low, honey-coated voice murmured right beside her ear. Ginny flinched, jumped back and spun around to face her assailant, coming face-to-face with who appeared to be a young man in his early twenties, wearing a sharp three-piece suit and his ebony hair combed over neatly. He looked as though he had walked straight out of the nineteen-forties. His eyes were dark, endlessly dark; Ginny felt as though she were staring straight into twin pools of inky obsidian. Her heart lurched as she remembered what she was here for, and her hand snapped to her thigh—but her weapon had vanished. "Looking for this?" the monster continued, and raised the stake.

"When did you take that?" Ginny gasped. She had intended to sound haughty and confident, but instead her tone came out like a rasp. The monster smirked.

"I think customary introductions are in order, don't you?" he replied smoothly. "But first..." he turned around to face the suspending cages, where the Muggle woman was gripping the bars of her cage. He rose the stake higher, taking aim, and then flung it—seemingly with no effort whatsoever, but the weapon launched through the air at breakneck speed, the sharp tip colliding with the rope that secured the woman's cage.

"No!" Ginny cried suddenly, but it was too late. The rope splintered and snapped, and all that could be heard was the Muggle's deafening screams as her cage plundered deep into the fiery depths of the pit.

"Now," the creature continued, turning back to face Ginny. He bowed suddenly, looking up at Ginny with those cruel eyes. "My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle. Who, pray tell, are you?"

"Ginevra Weasley," she murmured, unsure why she was telling him at all. There was something about his mysterious glare that made her feel warm inside, like she was able to tell him anything; do anything he told her to. She shook her head suddenly and broke eye contact, staring at her feet instead. Not much was known about these creatures. Who knew what kind of deadly magic he was working on her.

"Ginevra," he rolled her name around in his mouth like it was a particularly tasty boiled sweet. "And what is the means of your uninvited visit, Ginevra?"

"I'm here to make a request."

"With that sultry voice?" Tom Riddle purred. "You name it."

"I want you to stop murdering innocent people."

There was a brief silence after she spoke, but it was quickly replaced with Tom's high-pitched laugh. Ginny swallowed, feeling a knot tighten in her throat. It wasn't supposed to be a joke.

"Tell you what," Tom continued, and he began to pace around Ginny, circling her like a hungry vulture. "I'll make you a deal. I do love to make a good deal."

"I'm not here to make a deal!" Ginny snarled, and she ripped her wand from the back of her trousers suddenly, _"Lumos Solem!"_ she shouted, aiming her wand in Tom Riddle's face. A blast of pure, golden sunlight burst from the tip of her wand and shone in his face. He hissed and recoiled, but when he had composed himself, Ginny noticed that he was laughing once again.

"It's not real sunlight, stupid girl!" he snapped, his voice no longer smooth and charming. Instead he sounded sharp, brittle and dangerous, like the monster he was. His lips had curled back, exposing razor-sharp fangs. Ginny felt a sudden rush of fear spreading through her chest. She had made a mistake coming here at night. She should've come through the day, when the real sun was on her side.

She needed to apparate, get out of the cave, and then return at a better time.

However, Tom Riddle seemed to sense what she was planning, and he only began to laugh louder. "You can't apparate out of here. The cave prevents it. Do you think that I would commit half as many murders as I do if the witches and wizards I abduct could just 'poof' out of here?"

She needed a better plan. Continuing to point her wand threateningly at the monster, she backed up away from him, looking wildly around. Another idea sprung to mind, and she kicked off her left shoe. Tom Riddle's laugh dwindled and his face fell into a frown.

 _"Portus!"_ Ginny murmured, shooting the spell at her boot. She tucked her wand back into her leggings, and made to grab her shoe, which had now transformed into a Portkey which would transport her back to the Burrow.

But she wasted precious seconds. In an instant, Tom Riddle had ran at an inhuman speed towards her, and kicked the Portkey into the pit. Ginny screamed in anguish as her transportation was destroyed, and made to run back towards the staircase which led to the tunnels. However, Tom Riddle was too fast for her. He stuck his foot out in front of hers, causing her to trip and fall flat on her face, and then he was straddling her back. She felt tears prickling in her eyes as he removed her wand from the back of her trousers, and threw it into the pit. Her wand. Her wand was gone forever.

"That was rude, Ginevra," snarled Tom Riddle, and Ginny remained silent, allowing her tears to spill onto the dirty floor. She couldn't move; her arms were pinned to her sides with his strong legs. "Now, we'll try again. How about we make a deal?"

Ginny mumbled something ineligible in response.

"I will stop murdering the innocents of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, for one small price."

"What's that?" Ginny sobbed.

Tom Riddle leaned forwards, so that his mouth was just beside the shell of her ear. He pulled her ponytail out of the way, and pressed a delicate kiss to the back of her neck. "You will stay here with me. Until I see fit."

Before Ginny could plead with him, Tom Riddle had sunk his venomous fangs into the flesh of her neck.


End file.
